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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25870447">Take it Off</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fandoms_Are_Life37/pseuds/Fandoms_Are_Life37'>Fandoms_Are_Life37</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hetalia: Axis Powers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Also they low key make warfare a kink, America is a cocky asshole, Arthur's into it, BDSM, Background Relationships, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Bottom England (Hetalia), Brief Historical References, But it's not super bad or anything, Butt Plugs, Chastity Device, Clubbing, Consensual Kink, Crying, Dirty Talk, Dirty talk about nukes, Dom America (Hetalia), Dom/sub, Drunk Sex, England's the masochist, Handcuffs, I promise, I'm Sorry, Is what I mean, It's not perfect BDSM etiquette, M/M, Masochism, Mildly Dubious Consent, Nipple Clamps, Nipple Licking, Nipple Play, Nipple Torture, One Shot, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Seme America, Sex Club, Smut, Song: Take it Off by Ke$sha, Sounding, Sub England, Threats of Violence, Top America (Hetalia), Uke England, Urethral Play, Vibrators, Video Cameras, Wow this is too many tags, but not super drunk, i'll stop now, in a sexy way, ok now i'm done, sounding rod, wait</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:28:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,971</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25870447</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fandoms_Are_Life37/pseuds/Fandoms_Are_Life37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>America and England normally have threesomes with Belarus, but tonight, she's busy. The boys become busy, too, though in a different way. Who needs her, anyway?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>America/England (Hetalia)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>66</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Take it Off</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Based on the song Take it Off by Ke$sha. Request by Ashley on Archive of Our Own</p><p>Warnings: Sexual content, language</p><p>Estimated read time: 30 minutes. Is it past one am? Go to sleep ya horny Hetalians. </p><p>Read tags!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>If he weren’t used to the pounding music of the club, England’s head would have hurt. Most of the time, he spent his Friday nights inside, curled up with a good Dickens novel or a compilation of Shakespearean sonnets, but every third Friday of the month, he found himself in this club (named Pangea), dancing with other nations until he collided with America or Belarus- whichever came first. Then, he’d be with them until the third showed up and they could retreat to one of the Pangea’s private rooms. </p><p>On this particular night, he’d already been ground on by Sweden, France, Portugal, Denmark, and Mexico before he bumped into America- literally. </p><p>The beer in his hand sloshed, but it didn’t spill. When he first turned around, he looked like he was about to tell England off, but then he saw who it was and grinned. </p><p>“Hey, Artie,” He slurred. “Found Natalia yet?” </p><p>“No, she wasn’t with Ukraine or Romania, which is who she normally hangs around.” </p><p>He shrugged and took a swig of his drink. “We’ll find her eventually. Wanna dance?” </p><p>“I thought you’d never ask.” </p><p>America tossed the bottle aside, which England would have scolded him for (safety hazards and all that), but he was already being dragged onto the dancefloor and America quickly had him by the hips, rubbing up against him. </p><p>Laughing, England ground, too, giving into the dirty dancing. There was nothing to worry about here, after all. The club they were in only allowed entrance to nations and had no windows, so the press couldn’t take pictures of Scotland and Canada fucking on the stage, Germany seducing Italy into a BDSM scene in the corner, or Austria watching Hungary slide down a pole, making bedroom eyes at him while the music blared and the lights flashed. </p><p>It wasn’t Sunday school, that was for sure. No, Pangea was specifically designed for debauchery, and England couldn’t get enough (no matter how much he’d deny being there if his boss brought it up). </p><p>America nipped at the shell of his ear and England allowed his head to fall back against his chest. “Frisky?” </p><p>He snorted. “Spain has Romano tied down to the bar for body shots and you’re calling me frisky?” </p><p>“Fair point.” England turned around to press his front against America’s and say, “I’m getting impatient. We need to find Natalia.” </p><p>“I’ll go ask Russia to see if he knows where she is. How about you go get a room?” </p><p>England smirked. “It’d be my pleasure.” </p><p>This was just what he needed after a long day of work. The Prime Minister had dropped twelve fat files on his desk that morning and he swore to god if Parliament didn’t get their shit together, he’d burn down the Palace of Westminister with them all inside. </p><p>No, not now. No reason to focus on work right now. He was about to participate in the highlight of his month. </p><p>He strutted to the desk in the corner, run by one of the few employees at Pangea. They didn’t need too many rumors spawning from their secret club, so the owner (China, and he made a fortune off it) only hired people he had completely under his thumb. There were searches conducted before they were allowed to enter their workplace and they all knew if they said a word about it, they’d die. Maybe it wasn’t totally ethical, but that fit with the theme of the rest of the party, and England could turn a blind eye to employee punishments if it meant that he got his monthly fix. Besides, as far as he knew, none of them had been stupid enough to break China’s rules and therefore had been unharmed. </p><p>“I’d like a room, please.” </p><p>The employee nodded, opened his drawer, flipped through some keys, and stood, beckoning for England to follow. “Right this way, sir.” </p><p>He was thankful that the employee knew English. The club was in Hong Kong (the compromise China made with America to make it more secure for all nations that wanted to visit) and England was too intoxicated to remember Cantonese. </p><p>The employee led him through a heavy door and into a dim hallway. Along the hall were doors with different numbers, starting at one and climbing to twenty. Each had both Chinese numerals and the Arabic ones that English used. Doors one, three, five, and seven were shut, meaning they were in use. </p><p>“We space them out to give guests more privacy until we pass ten occupied rooms. Then we open the ones next to each other,” the employee explained, noticing England’s strange expression. </p><p>“I never noticed that before. Smart,” England remarked. </p><p>They came to a stop outside door nine and the employee passed a key to England. “What safeword are you using?” </p><p>“Nevada,” England said awkwardly. America’s idea, of course. Probably inspired by the sex that ran rampant in the city of Las Vegas. </p><p>“Our sensors will listen for the word, and if it is said more than three times, the door will automatically open. Condoms are provided, and try not to break anything.” </p><p>“Yes, yes, I know the drill. But I don’t like thinking about the sensors, thank you very much.” He joked. </p><p>“They don’t record anything unless you use the iPad in there and tell them to. But it’s forty dollars Hong Kong dollars or 3.95 pounds for a CD, and 80 Hong Kong dollars or 7.65 pounds for a DVD.” </p><p>“I know,” England said, taking the key when the man offered it. “Thank you.” </p><p>“Anyone I should be guiding to the same room later?”</p><p>“The United States. And Belarus, if she shows.” England answered. The man nodded, turning to leave, but he stopped him. “Oh, I almost forgot. If France comes asking about us, it doesn’t matter what he says, he’s not invited.” </p><p>“Understood, sir.” With that, he went to his desk, leaving England to enter the room and shut the door, hearing the automatic click behind him. Inside, there was anything he could ever want for a night of kinky sex. A bed was against the back wall, and there was a closet in the corner that revealed shelves of every sex toy ever invented.<br/>
Flush with the right wall was a table with an iPad in the center. The iPad had controls on it, including ones for activating the recording software. England messed with them for a moment, activating the cameras. He’d want a souvenir. </p><p>In the meantime, he sat down on the edge of the bed, pulled off his shirt, and waited impatiently for America to come back. He must have been anticipating his arrival for at least eight minutes before America knocked and said, “It’s me.” </p><p>England got up and opened the door to let him in, smiling. “Hey.” </p><p>“Hey, yourself.” America came in and shut the door behind him, looking England up and down hungrily. “You look really good.” </p><p>“Thanks, I-” He paused. “Where’s Natalia?” </p><p>“Russia said she was too busy to come.” </p><p>He scowled. “She could have at least sent a text.” </p><p>“Don’t worry about it, babe,” America said, taking England’s hands and leading him back toward the bed seductively. “We don’t need her to have fun.” </p><p>“Don’t call me babe.” England didn’t like it when America used terms of endearment. They were fuck buddies, nothing more, and when America used sweet words, it only rubbed that in. </p><p>America was unaware of the reasons for England’s aversion to pet names and laughed. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.” </p><p>England glared at him and would have said something snarky, but America already had their mouths pressed together and was undoing the buttons of his flannel shirt (honestly, wearing flannel to a club? That was so typical of America). </p><p>Before he could dwell on the lunacy of America’s attire, all of it except his Calvin Klein boxers was tossed aside and America was tugging England’s trousers down to expose his Derek Rose underwear. </p><p>His mouth was all over his slim chest in an instant, biting, sucking, and leaving trails of saliva. Eventually, he latched onto England’s nipple and ravished it like it was his last day on Earth. And oh, it was good. It was so good. </p><p>“Yes, god, Alfred, like that,” He encouraged, wiggling when the nub was taken between America’s teeth and pulled on lightly. England had always had sensitive nipples, and America was aware of it. </p><p>“I’m going to get something for you, Artie,” America murmured against his flesh. Abruptly, he got up, leaving England on the bed, tingling. </p><p>America scanned the shelves of sex toys (cleaned after each party that used the room, which only disgusted England when he was sober). He snatched a few items off and returned to straddle England, a small cord dangling in his hand. Nipple clamps. </p><p>Smirking, he attacked them, carefully pinching each bud before securing them and giving each a kiss too chaste considering what he had just done. And then he pressed a remote. England had misidentified the toys. They were vibrating nipple clamps. </p><p>The moment they turned on, he keened and made a whiney noise. </p><p>“I thought you’d like them,” America remarked casually, setting the remote aside and peeling England’s boxers off his sweaty skin to reveal the flushed erection. “They seemed like your kind of thing.” </p><p>“Shut up,” He said breathlessly.  </p><p>America laughed and held his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright. Don’t worry, I think it’s cute when you squirm because I make your nipples feel good.” </p><p>With the boxers out of the way, America chose to use the next thing he’d gotten from the closet- a plug and a bottle of lube. He slicked up his fingers first, being generous with what looked like a warming lube, based on the bottle’s label, and then he pressed the first one to England’s entrance. </p><p>England shifted his hips and pushed down onto America’s index finger to persuade him to go deeper. With a teasing remark about his eagerness, he obliged, inserting it to the first knuckle. </p><p>“I’m not a porcelain doll, Alfred,” England huffed when it didn’t intrude any further. </p><p>“Oh, I know. You can take a lot before you break,” He said, referencing some of their nights with Belarus, though he was specifically remembering a time Belarus had whipped him until he was nearly unconscious and America had made her stop before she broke him (much to England’s disappointment). </p><p>America’s second finger pressed in alongside the first and began to scissor him too early, but that was what England loved. The burn, the pain, and the pleasure it created. In his experience, the only thing better than doling out the pain was receiving it, though he was always happy to do either on the third Friday of the month. </p><p>Finger three never came. Instead, America slicked up a plug the size of three (four?) fingers and shoved it in without allowing England time to adjust. </p><p>He moaned, grasping at America, which made America catch his wrists and pin them to the bed. “Ah, ah, ah, no. Bad Arthur.” </p><p>“Don’t talk to me like a dog.” </p><p>“What, you don’t like it? You’ve always loved me treating you like a bitch in heat,” He remarked with a twist of his mouth. </p><p>England couldn’t deny that, so he just scowled. </p><p>“No need to fret, England. I was prepared for how grabby you get.” </p><p>Item number four came out of America’s pile: padded handcuffs. He latched one onto England’s left wrist and yanked him up onto his knees like a ragdoll, easily manhandling him into position to drape the chain connecting the cuffs over a bar over the bed meant for that exact purpose. The second cuff snapped around his right wrist, keeping his arms suspended above him and his knees planted on the bed, somewhat apart. </p><p>“You’re so sexy, Artie, all strung up and powerless.” He paused, then glanced at the bar. “Actually, if you really wanted to, you could totally break that bar and the cuffs, but you know what I mean.” </p><p>“You suck at dirty talk.” </p><p>“No, I don’t!” </p><p>“Yes, you do. Now shut up and tell me what the hell you’re grabbing now,” He said, craning his neck to try to see the pile, but it was dim in the room and it was somewhat behind America, making it hard to see anything particular. </p><p>America raised a brow. “So impatient. You know, if you’re not more polite, maybe I’ll just leave you here without any more satisfaction. Those little clamps will torture you until the club closes and some random employee will come in here, see you all naked, and let you go. Or maybe, by then, you’ll be so desperate you’ll let a human fuck you.” </p><p>“That was a pathetic bluff. It’s against the rules to leave anyone in the room by themselves during a BDSM scene.” </p><p>“Aww, Artie, you’re so cute,” He said, tapping his nose. “I’m the United States of America. I can do whatever I want.” </p><p>England frowned. Always so cocky. “No, you can’t.” </p><p>“Oh, really? Tell me, Arthur, what exactly is China going to do to me? Nuke me? I have thousands more warheads than him.” </p><p>“He could fine you.” </p><p>“And do you really think I’d ever pay him? I kind of have a track record of not paying China. The worst I’ll get is a scolding. And I’m not scared of him.” </p><p>“How about me?” </p><p>America snorted. “Did you just ask me if I was scared of you while you’re tied up with nipple clamps on, practically salivating over me? No, England, I’m not scared of you, either.” </p><p>In the meeting room, when he wasn’t horny, and when he was fully sober, England would have frowned upon what they discussed next, but in the moment, there was something strangely erotic about stating, “I have more than enough warheads to blow up your whole country.” </p><p>He smiled and booped his nose with one hand, but the other roughly grabbed his cock, squeezing painfully hard. “Your island is tiny, babe.” His hand tightened. “I could easily destroy you first.” </p><p>England moaned loudly and swallowed a second one when America’s thumb scraped over the head of his cock. “Alfred, if you leave me tied up here without fucking me, I’m going to declare war on you,” He said, despite them both knowing that neither meant what they said. </p><p>“Oof, Artie. I don’t think the United Nations or our bosses will approve of that. You really wanna break off the special relationship so soon?” </p><p>“Alfreddddddd,” He groaned, throwing his head back in frustration. </p><p>“What is it, angel?” His grip loosened, but he traced the slit of England’s cock with his fingers, making his eyes shut tightly in pleasure. </p><p>“Fine! Fine, fine, fine. I’ll stop being demanding.” </p><p>“I doubt that, but okay.” He released him and reached behind him to get the next toy- a sounding rod. When he got it, he held it between his two fingers, and examined it. “So, Arthur, we’ve done this once before, and you loved it. And I wanna try it again.” </p><p>“Try what?” He opened an eye and practically drooled at the sight of the rod. It was thicker than the one they used last time, so he immediately nodded. “Hell yes.” </p><p>“Great. Think you can take it now, or should we wait for-” </p><p>“Now!” </p><p>He chuckled. “I knew you weren’t done being naughty. You’re pretty demanding for a bottom asking me to pleasure him, especially after threatening to blow up my entire country, despite how empty those threats were.” </p><p>“Alfred Freedom Jones, I swear to all that is holy, if you do not put that thing in me right now, I am going to break out of these handcuffs and strangle you.” </p><p>“Kinky,” America winked. </p><p>England rolled his eyes, at first from irritation, but then from pleasure as the first bit of the rod penetrated the tip of his urethra. “Yes, fuck, yes!” </p><p>It was halfway in before America stopped again. “Arthur?” </p><p>“What?” He gasped.</p><p>“It seems wrong to reward you for being so demanding, don’t you think?” </p><p>As convincingly as he could muster, England said, “Not really.” </p><p>“That was an even worse lie than when you said you could nuke me.” </p><p>“Alfie, please,” He begged, drawing out the e on please. </p><p>“You’re lucky I’m merciful. How about this? You apologize, very, very sincerely, and I’ll let you take the rest of the rod, hmm? Convince me how sorry you are.” </p><p>He didn’t even need to ponder his pride. He needed it deeper more than he needed dignity. “Please, Alfred, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have been so bad and I shouldn’t have bluffed about bombs and war. Not funny. Shouldn’t have done that. It was bad.” </p><p>The rod went another centimeter in. “Good, but not good enough, baby boy.” </p><p>“But I’m so, so sorry, Alfie. I am. And I want you to put the rod in deeper even worse. I promise not to act like I’m going to explode all your states anymore.” </p><p>America laughed, and this time, it seemed genuine. “Oh, that was priceless.”<br/>
England frowned. </p><p>“Don’t be like that, Artie. It’s okay, I forgive you. It’s not like you’re actually tough, anyway, Mr. ‘Please Save Me From The Germans, America!’” </p><p>“I didn’t say that!” </p><p>“During the second world war, you did.” </p><p>“Alfie, please!” </p><p>“Alright. Since you learned your lesson and apologized so well.” In one swift motion, he inserted the rod the rest of the way. </p><p>England gasped and yanked against his cuffs, overwhelmed by the sensation. Every little bit of the metal, he could feel. Every little spot where his flesh pressed against it, he could feel. And every time it moved just the tiniest bit, he could feel it. </p><p>And then, he realized for the second time that night that he misidentified the toy America used on him in the dim room, because the plug in his ass wasn’t a plug, but a vibrator, and when it turned on, his whole body seized in pleasure, and he screamed. </p><p>The vibrations weren’t limited to the ones on his prostate. No, he could feel the rod vibrating, too, thanks to the powerful shaking from the vibrator. Pleasured tears leaked from the corners of his eyes and each noise he made was more garbled than the next. </p><p>Faintly, he heard America laugh and say something along the lines of, “Damn, Artie, you’re a mess.” </p><p>If he could reply, he would, but words were too far from his brain. Then, he found that America had begun fucking his mouth, so he couldn’t have spoken anyway. He was just so full. The vibrator was buzzing away in his ass, the sounding rod was stretching his urethra to stuff his cock, and America’s cock was pumping in and out of his mouth, brushing the back of his throat with each thrust. </p><p>He felt the edge approaching and his whole body trembled with the strain. In his ecstasy, he didn’t notice what America was doing until a chastity cage latched around his cock.<br/>
The instant he realized it was there, he made pleading noises around America’s cock, begging for orgasm as best as he could. </p><p>“Nuh-uh,” America insisted, fisting his hair and fucking his mouth deeper. “You’re not allowed to finish yet. Consider it your punishment.” </p><p>There was no arguing with America when it came to punishment, so England just steeled his nerves and tried his best to keep his wits about him. </p><p>The cock in his mouth slid over his tongue repeatedly, the vibrator kept stimulating his prostate with the cold, detached mercilessness of a machine, the sound moved inside his urethra in time with the thrusts of America’s hips, and the cage sat there, refusing to compromise or allow England the release his body needed. </p><p>England whimpered, blinking up and America to incite pity, but it did nothing. Everything kept going. It was so good that it hurt, and that only made it better. He could have died right there from the sensations that rippled through his skin. In his mouth, America twitched, thrust more erratically, and came. England swallowed it all greedily, hoping that he’d finally be granted the same climax. </p><p>But America pulled back, put the rod in as deep as it would go, climbed off the bed, and started walking to the door. Immediately, England trashed in his bondage. “N- No! Alfred, don’t- you can’t, I can’t, please!” </p><p>“You said earlier that I couldn’t just walk out and leave you here. I’m going to prove you wrong. Don’t worry, I’ll pay off the man at the desk. When the club shuts down, I’ll tell him to let you cum. Oh, but I almost forgot.” </p><p>He grabbed a remote from his pocket and pressed a button to turn the vibrator to max before tossing it haphazardly onto the table. And England fucking sobbed.</p><p>“No! No, Amer- Ah! Alfred, you- please, c- can’t take it! Need to cum so b- bad!” </p><p>“Oh, Artie, don’t cry. You only have to wait until closing, which is in…” He checked his watch, “Five hours. According to the research I did before this, you should be fine for that long. Well, not fine, but you won’t have any real medical problems because of it.” </p><p>“Alfred!” </p><p>“Bye, Artie.” With that, he opened the door and left, leaving England a wreck on the bed, listening to the music that could still be heard, barling from Pangea’s speakers. </p><p>America was only gone for thirty seconds before he entered the room again, shutting the door. The second he was back, England was pleading again. </p><p>“Whoa, whoa, Artie, calm down,” He chuckled. “Gotcha. Come on, you didn’t actually think I was going to leave you here, did you?” </p><p>England just continued to cry. Not out of emotional distress, but out of sheer, overwhelming pleasure. Tears smeared across his pink, flushed face as he begged, “Alfie, p- please!” </p><p>“Okay, I’m coming.” America crossed to the bed and kissed his cheeks to soothe him before reaching down and very carefully removing the sound. That eased the ache in England’s body somewhat, but he was too delirious to understand exactly what was happening. Next, America gradually turned down the settings on the vibrator until he switched it off, re-lubed his fingers, and inserted them, pinching the vibrator and pulling it out gently. The clamps came off, exposing the angry red that the skin surrounding his nipples had turned. </p><p>And finally (finally), he undid the cage. England’s body was put over the edge. His orgasm was the best he’d ever had. It came crashing down on him like a tidal wave, destroying his awareness and sending him into a state of unconsciousness for a moment. Then, he was brought back to the world by America’s hands undoing the cuffs.<br/>
Carefully, America lowered him back onto the bed, into the comfortable sheets, and drew him into his arms. “There we go. Better?” </p><p>Sleepily, England nodded. </p><p>“Good. We’ve got five hours, still. I take it you’re not up for round two.” </p><p>He shook his head. </p><p>“That’s okay. Do you want me to go, or-” </p><p>“No,” England found himself saying, despite knowing America was a fuckbuddy, nothing more. “Stay.” </p><p>“Oh. Yeah, I mean, sure.” America pulled him into his arms and kissed the top of his head, bringing an overwhelming sense of comfort to the European nation. </p><p>“Thank you.” </p><p>“Of course.” </p><p>As England relaxed in his embrace, he realized a couple of things. One, he was happier than he had been in years. Two, this was a sign that someday, he and America could be something more than what they were. Three, America was right. They didn’t need Belarus to have fun. </p><p>And four, he was very glad he set the cameras to record. It was worth £7.65.</p>
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